It All Happened On A Monday
By Ms. Moreah Vestan. Posted on .
Buckle your seat belt and get ready for a ride. When you’ve had a rich, full day, do you paint your day’s picture the same as I do? I’m aware of sadness when I notice myself judging what’s happening instead of going with the day’s flow. What do you feel? Come wander through my day with me, like a visiting out-of-town relative. I’d like the company.
How could I ever feel I'm not being productive enough! I was thinking over my day and it had the wonderful variety and stimulation and sense of accomplishment I so love. It started out with a bowl of oatmeal in my sunny back yard. While I was there, I pulled morning glories and put them in the yard waste can, and then picked small pieces of trash in the alley to dump in the garbage. I carried the container of empty bottles from the kitchen to recycling.
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Since I work from my home office, I was on the computer before and after my two coaching clients before I realized I hadn't even brushed my hair. I added to my reading list a client's suggestion of a book of essays, Didion's Slouching Toward Bethlehem and
Sedaris' biography Naked. They are now on reserve at the library. I did a load of laundry, which had built up over the past couple weeks. So tonight I will sleep on fresh sheets, and when I went to gym I had a clean T-shirt. I'm wearing my purple-red-green-yellow shirt—the colors alone make me happy.
Sometimes I wonder what I get done in a day, so today I kept track of the details. Well, I called the library for the list of books and CDs due—many had been renewed already once. I took a last listen to Scherezade, Horowitz Plays Mozart, Vivaldi's Four Seasons and Very Special Songs of the 70's before I trekked them back to the West Seattle library. Fulghum's Uh-Oh was one of the books due, and I took notes on some of his themes—I know just reading "Cinderella with a part for Norman the barking pig" or "hiccuping at the wedding" or "renting a storage unit to read the paper & drink a beer" will bring me back the flavor of those delightful essays.
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I emailed my friend Michael in Vancouver that I would be there for the International Coaching Conference in October and asked if he knew an inexpensive place to stay, including his couch. He replied that if his girl friend weren't there it might work and gave me the number of a nearby hostel.
I emailed Rose, my web designer/friend, and said "Yes, do send the local article on coaching, and see if the newspaper would let me link the article to my web site. Would you add my list of writing and speaking topics to my web site," and "Good for you for taking Sunday just for you."
